


Roses and Red Carnations of the Like

by po3t



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Artist Lance (Voltron), Awkward Keith, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Comedy, Explicit Language, Hanahaki AU, I literally wrote this all at once and am somehow proud of it, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Keith (Voltron) is a Dork, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Langst, M/M, Not the main focus of the story, One Shot, Pining Lance (Voltron), Self-Hatred, Some Humor, Vomiting, hanahaki, i had to fight the urge to use no caps in this piece, its all fleeting though, klance, lance (voltron) centric, lance centric, lance has freckles, mostly because i’m awkward so now keith is too, not graphic, this is kinda funny kinda angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:01:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25764859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/po3t/pseuds/po3t
Summary: Suddenly, it was fleeting touches, searing flames dwelling in tanned cheeks, numerous sketches and paintings, his soft locks gently bathed by an unfamiliar sun. And of course, that smug shitty barely-there smirk Keith wore on rare occasion. None of it meant shit.Lance was so fucking gone.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Kudos: 101





	Roses and Red Carnations of the Like

Lance should have known from first glance that he was utterly fucked. Keith hadn’t even knew he existed. Keith was a reckless son of a bitch, but that didn’t stop Lance from becoming infatuated. 

And if it wasn’t apparent in the past, then damn was it obvious now. As he kneeled over the toilet, filthy as it fell prey to his dry heaving. His breath smelled foul of copper and soil. The sweat gracing his brow laughing at his misery. Lance couldn’t bring himself to be offended. He’d brought this upon himself, seen the warning signs yet refused to acknowledge them. Despite knowing they would bring about his downfall. 

The rest of the paladins couldn’t know. He repeated this to himself as he found the strength to stand and flush his bile down the drain. 

Disgusting. 

This stubborn romanticized disease wasn’t all it was chalked up to be on the internet. They didn’t know the half of it. Hanahaki was the worst way to die, and it definitely wasn’t beautiful. Not only did it hurt like hell, but the stench of flowers really did become sickening after awhile, not to mention, blood was a huge pain in the ass to clean up.

His gaze was steady in the mirror. Lance watched as his reflection gripped the counter, causing his knuckles to whiten and his nails to contort. A subtly painful gesture. His hair had lost all its shine, his eyes their life. 

“soy un desastre” A mouth spat.

The man across the way furrowed his brows and tore his eyes away. Lance didn’t glance back at the mirror, yet he still fell victim to its lingering hatred. 

————

“Lance... You okay buddy?” It was Hunk who had broken the forced peace. 

He offered a bitter laugh in response.

“Just fine, Hunk” He spoke, burning holes into the table idle before him. He Bit back the urge to spill everything and just unload on the guy. This time that would have just been too cruel. Wanting to die, and actually knowing you’re going to die without any input of your own are two very different things. 

Lance had known that Hunk hadn’t bought it. That didn’t stop the relief that ran over him when Hunk didn’t probe him anymore than that. Just how were you supposed to tell your best friend that you’re going to choke to death because of one dude. With a fucking mullet at that.

Lance hoped to figure out how he made it work.

————-

“Watch your left!”

A voice rung out into the almost-empty training deck, save for two figures shuffling about. Sloppy dodges and slightly off balance jabs and snipes towards the robot forcing them into a corner. 

Seriously, the thing mowing their asses wasn’t even sentient.

Hanahaki never failed to tire out its victim at an alarmingly unnatural rate. Lance was no exception. That was becoming exceedingly clear when his head started spinning and his breath came out forced. 

Meanwhile Keith had hardly broken a sweat. After all, they’d only been at it for less than ten minutes. Although Keith barley broke a sweat even in normal circumstances. As normal as fighting a robot and purple fuzzy aliens could get. He wanted to hate him, 

but he couldn’t.

“Rail me.” Lance manages to mutter between heaving in oxygen that the stupid fucking petals threatened to block. 

“What was that?” A voice rang out before the training sequence was called to an end by the very same voice.

Lance wheezed a bit before replying, a glare in tow. “Tired...”

-  
Lance was wrung out to say the least. 

Vomiting for hours on end kinda does that to a person. When Lance managed to get himself launched into space by a telepathic cat robot, this stupid fucking disease was the last thing on his mind.

Although he really should’ve expected it. His bisexual ass always acknowledged that Keith was damn attractive, but that didn’t equate to anything. 

Until he got to know the guy.

And damn if that wasn’t the worst decision Lance had ever made.

Suddenly, it was fleeting touches, searing flames dwelling in tanned cheeks, numerous sketches and paintings, his soft locks gently bathed by an unfamiliar sun. And of course, that smug shitty barely-there smirk Keith wore on rare occasion. None of it meant shit. 

Lance was so fucking gone.

\- 

Lance knew his little secret would come to light eventually. Of course, that didn’t make it any less scary. 

So there he sat, in all his angsty teenage glory. Surrounded by damp roses and carnations of the like. A metallic pang drifting through the air, overriding the sweet scent of nature. His throat raw and sore, the taste of copper thick on his tongue. 

It was strangely peaceful, Lance didn’t mind going like this. Until the very dickwad whom they were for barged in. 

The automatic door pulled itself open to reveal a shaggy head of hair. 

“Lance, you’re late for gr-“ The words quickly died on his tongue as his eyes took in the scene before him. His pupils dilated a smidge before his tapped himself out of his trance, and glanced towards the boy sat on the bed with his knees pulled to his chest.

“Holy fuck... Lance.” His tongue felt thick in his too-small mouth. 

The red paladin quickly reached the other side of the room and took a seat next to the solemn boy. Lance would’ve been more pissed if it weren’t for the fact that he was so utterly exhausted. He only offered eye contact as he waited for the questions to come tumbling in.

“Is this... what I think it is?” Keith uttered, throwing a gesture to the pile of flowers that hovered too close to them.

Lance only had a couple options. And honestly they weren’t even worth mulling over at this point. A quiet sound of agreement escaped him. 

“You’re not going to like this...” The blue paladin whispered. 

He was met with a patient gaze courtesy of Keith. 

Lance sucked in a stuttered breath. “They’re for you.” 

Almost automatically he felt arms curling around him. Heat apparently had not taken his vacation, as it stuck to the arms encapsulating him. Lance wished for it to sear his skin, the heat didn’t comply. 

A dry chuckle. A pained expression. An even tighter grip.

“I like you too.” 

Lance watched his mouth utter it’s confession. And suddenly his chest was lighter.

**Author's Note:**

> like magic wow 
> 
> this started off slightly serious, but then i just kinda fucked with it.


End file.
